Unsinkable (12 page)

“I don’t know. If so, then we may find ourselves in terrible trouble.”

“We haven’t disturbed it.”

She turned to face him. “But I really want to open the crate, Beckett.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“I am. I won’t open the coffin, if that’s what’s inside. But I have to know.”

Did he really believe in curses? Even Egyptian ones? Four days ago he would have said no, resoundingly. But then four days ago he wouldn’t have believed in books with magical powers either.

She was looking at him, actually pleading with him with her eyes to help her out, to grant this one wish. One thing he was certain of, he hadn’t written this scene or anticipated it.

“Okay. But we just open the box, not anything that’s inside.”

“And we need to be careful not to disturb anything, not to be too rough. I don’t want to do anything that the spirits might think was disturbing the person inside the box.”

“Is it nailed shut?”

“That’s the amazing thing. I checked. It isn’t. All we have to do it open these latches. I was about to do it myself when you walked up.”

He stepped closer. He took a deep breath and flipped the first latch. And then another, and then another. When they were all open he said, “Ready or not.”

She very gently opened the lid, while he held the box still.

They looked inside. An elaborate sarcophagus rested inside, painted and enameled with jeweled tones. “Oh,” Carrington gasped. “It’s her. The Princess of Amen-Ra. I saw the coffin board in the museum.”

Beckett could only stare. The coffin was the one in Stead’s story. “I didn’t write that. Not that it was the one in his story.”

“Do you think he’s the one who brought it on?”

“I have no idea and I’m not going to ask. Neither are you. Let’s close this up and get out of here. I think we’re probably tempting fate as much as we dare.”

Ever so gently they closed the lid and locked it back up. “What now?”

Carrington said, “I have no idea. I never even dreamed I ever see a mummy up close. I think she knows we didn’t intend to disturb her.”

“Why do you think that?”

“In the story everyone who looked at it saw horrible faces. All we saw was the coffin.”

Beckett felt a shiver run over him. “I hope you’re right.”

He followed her up the stairs that led them back to the deck. “Does this change anything?”

She wanted so badly to have him take her in his arms and kiss her. But something inside her just wouldn’t give in that easily. “I don’t know.”

“When will you?” He was so close that he could have easily kissed her. He wanted to, but held back.

“I’ll let you know.” She swept past him, leaving him confused. He pulled the book out of his pocket and looked at it again. He seemed to be doing that a lot lately. He considered writing the words he wanted to write, taking matters into his own hands again.
That’s what got you into this mess,
he thought. He had to work hard to resist the urge to write down what he wanted, knowing that he had to let Carrington have some say in what happened between them. He tucked the book and pen back in his pocket and took another stroll around the deck.

C
arrington  checked her appearance in the full length mirror. “It’s a lovely dress, ma’am,” the maid said.

“Thank you. I think we’re done.” The maid dropped a slight curtsy and exited as Rose swept into the room.

“Are you sure that you want to wear that?”

“What’s wrong with it?”

“It’s so…somber.”

The black dress was overlaid in black lace and embroidered all over in heavy beading. It was a grown up dress in Carrington’s mind. A dress that made a statement. “It’s elegant.”

“You need some jewelry, at least.” Her mother went to the safe and worked the combination, pulled out a wooden jewel box. “Here, try these.” She handed Carrington a smaller velvet box. Carrington opened it to find a pearl, diamond and ruby necklace, earrings and a bracelet.

“They’re beautiful! I’ve never seen these before.” She temporarily forgot to be angry with her mother as she put on the jewels.

“Your grandmother’s. I had intended them as an engagement gift.”

 Not that again, Carrington thought, but she didn’t say anything. She admired the necklace when she had fastened it around her neck. Her mother couldn’t be faulted in her taste in jewelry that much was true. The rubies added just the right amount of color to what she was wearing, added a little touch of glamour and softened the severity of the dress.

“Are you ready for dinner, then?”

Carrington nodded.

“Then let’s go. I do hate arriving late and your father is on time for once.”

                                 ******

Second Officer Lightoller waited for instructions from Captain Smith.

“Ice warnings, Mr. Lightoller, but we’re a bit south.”

“Yes, sir, but we’ll still keep a lookout.”

“Temperature is 39 degrees.”

“Right, sir.”

Smith straightened the tie of his dress uniform. “Well, I’m off to dinner, then. You’ve got a good crew this evening, Mr. Lightoller.”

“Yes, Captain. Enjoy your dinner.”

Smith left the bridge and headed for the first class dining room. Second Officer Lightoller read the posted ice warnings. They had received a number, he knew.  Indeed, the captain seemed nonchalant about the warnings. He posted the warnings where they could easily be seen.

                               ******

Beckett stood at the bottom of the grand staircase as Carrington descended. Had anyone ever looked as beautiful as she did, in that black dress adorned with pearls and rubies? She’d worn that gown on purpose. He knew it, just to torment him. She swept past him without so much as a glance, but he was expecting that too. She would have to speak to him at dinner and then somehow he would find a way to get her alone and make her settle this argument once and for all. He had no intention of letting her end it and he didn’t want to spend the rest of the voyage playing games. He’d forced himself not to write what he wanted into the book. He had spent the time since Carrington has left him on deck wondering what he was going to do about the book. He was torn as to whether to try and finish it, to keep it as it was, or even to toss it overboard.

They settled into their places. She sat, as she had each night before, between him and Molly. Molly was in rare form that night, starting the dinner conversation by warning Mr. Stead that if he told any more stories he would be banished. Even Stead laughed good- naturedly. Captain Smith joined their table and kept the conversation going by sharing some of his more memorable voyages.

Beckett kept looking for an opportunity to engage Carrington in some kind of conversation, but it wasn’t easy to get more than a few words out of her. He listened to the music playing in the background and watched her talk to Molly.

At last he had enough of her pretending to ignore him. Was he imagining that there were more courses tonight than ever before? He stood and leaned close to her ear. “Come outside with me.”

She looked at him for the first time since dinner had started. She gave him the faintest of smiles and stood, allowing him to take her arm.

“Carrington, the meal isn’t over,” Rose began disapproval evident in her tone.

“We’ve had eight courses. Mother. I’m quite full.”

“Oh let them go, Rose,” Molly said. “They’re far too young to sit here all night with all us old folks.”

As usual Molly’s candor earned a few laughs and Rose gave Carrington a frown as she walked away from the table with Beckett.

It was cold on the deck, the temperature had fallen to the low thirties. Beckett took Carrington’s hand and was relieved when she didn’t pull out of his grasp. He stopped walking and faced her.

“I’ve forced myself not to write in the book all day. I didn’t want to take a chance on dictating what happens to us. I know how I want this scene to play out, Carri. What I don’t know is what you want.”

“I want to have some say in what happens in my life, Beckett. I don’t want someone to always decide what I’m going to do without asking me.”

“Why do you think I would ask that of you?”

“You wrote me into your story. Then you manipulated me with the book.”

“I’m so very sorry about that. But I didn’t start out writing about you. Just about a girl that I imagined. She just turned out to be you, and then, yes, I tried to make things go my way. I’m sorry if you didn’t want that.”

“I did want that, in a way. I wanted to have you and do the things I wanted to do. My parents, my mother especially, always dictate every moment of my day. I look at all the society ladies and that’s not the life I want.”

“I understand that. It’s why I don’t want the job at the bank. I never wanted to become some copy of my father, even though everyone has always expected me to do that.”

“I’ve been so sad all day,” she said, with tears in her voice. “I was angry at you earlier and then, as silly as it sounds, I
missed
you. As much as if you’d gone away.”

“And that’s why you’ve been ignoring me all evening?” His fingers lifted her chin and his eyes met hers.

“No, that was for Mother’s benefit. And to see if you noticed me.”

“I noticed you. That’s quite a gown you’re wearing.”

She shivered.  “I wish it was warmer.”

He pulled off his coat and draped it around her, then took her in his arms. She didn’t pull away, instead she let her head rest on his shoulder, standing so close to him that she could feel his heart beating. He held her close for several minutes and then he raised her face again and bent to kiss her. She wondered how she could have considered, even for a few hours, a lifetime without kissing Beckett. How it made sense that after so little time together she could feel so much for him, how he could feel so much for her. She decided that it didn’t matter, that there was no need any more to try and make sense of it. That somehow, hers and Beckett’s lives were supposed to cross, that they had always been destined to fall in love.

He broke away from her and spoke in a voice just above a whisper. “We are going to be together.

Wherever we are, as long as we are together it doesn’t matter. It can be New York or Egypt or farthest Africa. I don’t really care. You can call the shots. I just know we have to be together. Forever.”

“What about your job? Your writing?”

“I’m not sure I can really write. I was considering throwing the book overboard earlier.”

“No, don’t. I want to keep it. Even if you don’t finish the book, it brought us together.”

“Maybe we should take the job at the bank and find a way to travel, frequently. On second thought, I really don’t need the job except to make Father happy. I have plenty of money.”

Carrington laughed. “If you took the job would he let you travel?”

“We’ll see. If not, he can have his job.”

“And we’ll see Egypt?”

He kissed her again. “And anywhere else you want to go.”

“I want you to keep writing.”

“For right now, let’s just plan on a future together. What that future looks like can wait to be determined. We have the rest of our lives to decide what happens.”

“I love you, Beckett.”

“I love you, Carrington.”

She whispered. “You alone can call me Carri. I like the way it sounds when you say it.”

“I love you,
Carri
.” He kissed her again. And again.

“I’m freezing,” she said at last. “Can we please go back in?”

“Yes. Want to make bets on whether or not they’ve served dessert yet?”

Carrington laughed. “Who serves eleven courses in one dinner?”

“No one except the
Titanic
,” Beckett said, taking his coat back and putting it on so that he would be properly dressed for the dining room. He took her hand in his.

“A perfect fit,” she said, holding their clasped hands up.

“I had noticed,” he said and they began walking back to the brightly lighted first class dining room, where the last course was just being served.

                             ******

Jack Phillips took another ice warning message, this time from the ship
Californian
. He set it aside and continued sending the days requested messages.

Second Officer Lightoller noticed as he stood on deck that the temperature was dropping.  Going back to the bridge, he called two crew members and asked then to take a lookout for ice in the crow’s nest.

“Expecting trouble, sir?” asked Frederick Fleet.

“Not necessarily. Just be on the lookout, will you? Let me know if you even suspect something.”

Reginald Lee said, “Right sir. We’ll go up now, then?”

“If you would. Just keep a close watch. The last we thing we need is to hit an iceberg.”

“At least we’ve got an unsinkable ship,” Lee remarked.

The two men climbed into the crow’s nest. Neither took binoculars.

Inside the dining room, the first class passengers lingered over after dinner coffee and port. At nine thirty, Captain Smith retired to his cabin.